


the letter

by nightbirdrises



Series: Sinking 'verse [19]
Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-28
Updated: 2014-09-28
Packaged: 2018-02-19 01:56:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,355
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2370173
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nightbirdrises/pseuds/nightbirdrises
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I want you to hold me."</p>
            </blockquote>





	the letter

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings for this segment: none
> 
> You can read Sinking in chronological order using [this page](http://princehummel.tumblr.com/sinking), or you can read it in the order of events as I wrote them [here](http://princehummel.tumblr.com/tagged/v%3A+sinking/chrono).

**From: Kurt**  
I have a letter from NYU in my hands right now.

  
**To: Kurt**  
oh my god? What does it say?

  
**From: Kurt**  
I haven’t opened it. fuck, I almost don’t want to.

  
**To: Kurt**  
why’s that?

  
**From: Kurt**  
I want you with me first. Meet me at the park by your house?

  
**To: Kurt**  
Sure. I’ll be there soon. 

  
Now used to being summoned places by Kurt — which wasn’t a bad thing at all — Blaine was out the door within minutes. Outside, there was still a thin layer of snow that covered the ground. It being March, it no longer held fast to reflective, pure white; instead the snow was dirty and smudged from winter’s trials. Rain from the previous weekend had washed some of the snow out, of course, but it only served to further dirty the patches that were left behind. All in all, Blaine tried not to let the dull landscape of his neighborhood bring him down as he walked towards the park.

He knew that Kurt visited that park often, much more so than Blaine ever did. Kurt had never explained why, exactly, but it was one thing that Blaine didn’t mind not knowing. No longer was Kurt a mystery to be solved — or even a mystery to be left unsolved. He was Kurt Hummel, flawed and clouded and perfect and clear. Blaine loved him for all his mysteries and revelations, his bad days and his good days.

Blaine reached the park before Kurt did and found the spot underneath the largest slide that never seemed to be touched by snow, or so Kurt had explained. It was a little cramped and the wooden beam that provided support to his back did so painfully, but Blaine smiled as he settled in.

As he waited, Blaine wondered at the contents of the letter that Kurt would be opening. It could either be a yes or no, and though Blaine had told Kurt that it didn’t matter either way… he  _really_  wanted Kurt to have this. Something real that would prove to the doubting world that Kurt was more than pink highlights and tattoos and deafness.

"Even  _I_  can hear you thinking,” came a quiet, familiar hum, and Blaine let himself melt into the voice for a moment. When Blaine turned his head to look at Kurt, he saw in his hands a purple envelope. Kurt eased in next to him, though he angled himself slightly so he was still facing Blaine, and placed the letter on the ground in order to sign  **I have a confession to make.**

**What’s that?**

Kurt laughed, a little breathless sound, and shook his head.  **I’m scared.**

 **Good.**  Blaine grinned as Kurt gave him a side-eyed look.  **If you weren’t, you’d be a… a…**

"Robot?" Kurt supplied with the sign, and Blaine nodded. He sighed.  **I thought I was done being scared.**

He continued out loud, “I never told you, but none of the other schools accepted me. This one’s my last shot and, fuck, it’s the most selective place I even bothered with. There’s no way there’s a yes in that stupid letter.”

Blaine frowned.  **Board?**

(Because as much as he was starting to get used to sign language, the written word was safe for them, familiar and easy; even Kurt had only been teaching himself and his family the language for two years. For serious conversations, at least, this was preferable.)

Kurt dug the board out of his backpack and handed it to Blaine. He crossed his legs and fiddled with a loose thread in his hoodie as Blaine started to write.

_I’ve never heard you like this._

Scoffing, Kurt signed,  **Like what?**

_Lacking in confidence._

Kurt gave him a hard stare, but Blaine simply raised his eyebrow in response. He waited — because that’s what his boyfriend needed sometimes, someone to wait for his walls to drop — and was rewarded when Kurt opened his mouth to speak, his hands wrapping around himself. “I know I’m good enough. I just need other people to agree with me. Usually they don’t.”

_Is it too cheesy for me to say ‘MAKE THEM BELIEVE?’_

"A little."

_Too bad, I already said it._

"Dumbass."

_You love me._

"So much," Kurt said gently, a smile returning. "Look, I don’t know if I can open this one."

Blaine nodded, staring at the board as he erased the marks from it. He placed it on the ground next to him, took a deep breath, and signed,  **Is there anything you want me to do?**

"I—" Kurt stopped, got to his knees, and shuffled closer to Blaine in the small space. He sat back a little with a resigned huff.  **I want you to hold me.**

Blaine smiled and opened his arms for Kurt to lean into his body and let him wrap his arms around Kurt’s middle. Aware that he wouldn’t be able to sign properly from this position, Blaine decided to nose gently at the side of Kurt’s neck, leaving small, hopefully comforting kisses there. Kurt shifted and laughed quietly when Blaine’s lips brushed feather-light across sensitive skin.

"That tickles," he muttered. Blaine squeezed his arms around him in response. "You’re not helping me get around to opening that letter, Blaine."

Blaine attempted to draw an affirmative plus sign into the skin of Kurt’s stomach with his finger, but he only succeeded at making him squirm as it tickled him even more. Then he maybe kept doing it just to hear Kurt’s laugh.

"Asshole," Kurt gasped when Blaine stopped, turning to glare at him. "That was unnecessary."

Blaine gave him a little  _maybe_  shrug and took advantage of Kurt’s closeness by kissing him, soft and gentle until Kurt pushed it over the edge into hard, rough, rougher—

Kurt stopped when Blaine found his hip and squeezed, a reminder. He leaned his forehead against Blaine’s, breathing heavily. “I’m doing it again, aren’t I?” he asked. Blaine nodded and Kurt visibly slumped against him. “Sorry.”

This happened sometimes — Kurt had the tendency to lose himself in Blaine for the sake of escaping some kind of stress, often doing so in a rough way that never hurt Blaine but was always so unlike Kurt that he could tell within seconds what was going on. He figured it’s left over from Kurt’s old habit of going to Scandals and, well, fucking his stress away with guys that didn’t matter. Once upon a time, Blaine thought that he was one of those guys. He knew better now.

They’d talked about it a little, enough for Kurt to tell Blaine to let him know (with a noticeable squeeze or three taps) if he was getting too rough too fast because he’d stop — and he always did.

Of course, Blaine didn’t  _mind_  either of them getting a little rough once in a while, not one bit. He just wanted it to be for the right reasons when it happened.

After a moment of silence, Kurt grunted and got off of Blaine. “Fuck this, I can’t wait,” he said, picking the letter up and staring at it. He looked back at Blaine as he turned around to face him. “Should I?”

 **Do it** , Blaine signed, getting on his knees in a mirror image of Kurt, nerves sparking in anticipation. He couldn’t help sweeping his gaze across Kurt — down his chest, along the column of his neck, across streaks of pink among chestnut hair, then back down to the purple envelope held in deceitfully steady hands.

Those hands moved after a moment, though, and Blaine heard the paper tearing before he registered the sight of it. Kurt took out a neatly folded sheet of paper and tossed the torn envelope aside, a breath coming out shakily.

Blaine reached for Kurt’s wrist; it only took a touch for Kurt to look up at him, eyes wide and worried.

 **Whatever that says** , Blaine signed,  **I love you. You’re going to New York, whatever happens.**

"God, I hope so," Kurt said breathlessly. "I love you, too, pretty boy."

The old nickname made them both smile fondly, but then Kurt opened the letter.


End file.
